


9:52

by xthe_dreamerx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Gen, Romance, Slightly based off of OTH, Stydia, i'm terrible at tags, school shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-13 01:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7132118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xthe_dreamerx/pseuds/xthe_dreamerx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stydia AU where Beacon Hills is just a normal high school. No werewolves or kanimas or banshees. Scott McCall was never bitten. Allison Argent's family were never werewolf hunters. But just because it's normal, doesn't mean it's not dangerous.<br/>WARNINGS: School Shooting fic, read at own discretion</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 8:31

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! Just a little preface before you get into the story, I'm not trying to romanticize school shootings AT ALL. They are a very serious and tragic event that should never happen. I just got inspired after watching the school shooting episode of One Tree Hill (which is seriously amazing, you should go watch that show right now on Netflix). Hope you all enjoy and read at own discretion.

It was just supposed to be another normal day. 

Lydia Martin always imagined her senior year being amazing. It was her last year in high school, the year that she ruled the school. As if it were different from any other year. 

But her senior year is the year she’s at the top of the power chain before she falls all the way back down to being a freshman in college. And she’d be damned if she didn’t make it the best year she’s ever had. 

Of course, she hadn’t planned for a day like this. 

8:31 a.m.

The first thing she spotted when she got to campus that day was the one and only Stiles Stilinski. 

Her best friend was waiting by the front doors of the school, just like he has since him and Malia broke up. And what a joyous day that was for her. 

Malia Tate. She came to the town of Beacon Hills during the first semester in their junior year. She was a bombshell. Toned legs, tanned skin. She was hooked on Stiles, and she reeled him in with one look. 

Lydia didn’t know what it meant back then. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she saw them together. The glares she would send them when she saw them kissing. The feeling of her heart shattering when she walked in on them having sex that one time. 

She knows what it means now. 

It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know what real love was like. All she had ever known was shitty boyfriends who treated her like crap, using her as arm candy or a good screw. But it was her fault that she didn’t realize what was in front of her the whole time. 

Stiles. 

She honestly doesn’t know what would’ve happened to her if she hadn’t met Allison Argent her sophomore year. Allison changed her for the better. The brunette made her realize what a bitch she had been. She opened her eyes to what had been in front of her the whole time. Gave her new friends that she could rely on. 

When Jackson moved to London at the end of sophomore year, Lydia couldn’t help but be a bit relieved that he was gone. She felt like she could finally breathe again. 

Then Aiden and his twin brother came along at the beginning of junior year, along with a new love interest for Scott McCall after him and Allison broke things off. Aiden was hot. He was new. He was a distraction. And he was just what she needed. 

But he also happened to be a compulsive liar. He disappeared for days at a time, then came back out of the blue, acting like nothing happened. She had gotten sick of it. She broke it off. 

Kira was one of the nicest people she’d ever met. She had her thing with Scott while Allison had her thing with the curly haired boy named Isaac Lahey, another lacrosse player that Stiles absolutely despised. Everyone was happy, besides her. 

And after that came the scare of Stiles possibly having the same brain disease as his mother. Frontotemporal Dementia. She was so scared. She thought she was gonna lose him. 

But she couldn’t do anything about it. 

Malia had heard about their past. About how Stiles had a crush on her since the third grade. She was mad and jealous, and threatened Lydia to stay away from him. If she didn’t, Malia would make sure he stayed away from her. 

Lydia was scared. She believed that Stiles would chose Malia over her. So, she stayed away, deciding she would rather be left guessing than know the actual answer. 

It wasn’t long after they found out Stiles didn’t have FTD when Allison was killed. Her and Scott were jumped one night, one of the guys stabbing her right through the abdomen. 

And it was only a day later when Aiden was killed in a hit and run. 

She didn’t know how to handle it. Two people that she care so immensely about were gone from her in an instant. It didn’t matter that she had ended things between Aiden and her. She was heartbroken. She missed him. She missed them. 

Allison was like the sister she never had. She could tell the pale, brunette beauty anything. And when she was gone, Lydia no longer had anyone like that. The only person she could even imagine telling half the things she told Allison to, is Stiles. And he was preoccupied back then. 

Lydia kept her promise to Malia. She didn’t go anywhere near him. He was confused as to why one of his best friends wouldn’t so much as look at him, but he didn’t act too much on it. He was too blinded by his lust to care. 

And then came senior year. They started off the year just like they ended junior year. Kira and Scott were still together, Isaac and Mr. Argent had moved to France, Stiles and Malia were still a thing, and she was alone. 

They all still hung out together, but no one really noticed how much Lydia was grieving. Not even Scott. And it hurt her. But she didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to ruin anyone’s happiness with her grief. 

When they would all hang out together, she could sense the tension in the air. Especially when Theo Raeken, someone from their childhood, came back during the first week back at school, setting his sights on Malia. 

And what was worse, was that the brunette was encouraging him. She was flirting back. And Lydia could tell that it was killing Stiles. 

It wasn’t much of a surprise when Stiles broke it off between him and Malia in the second week of September. The others were surprised, but she wasn’t. And now that they weren’t together anymore, Lydia had no reason to stay away from Stiles. 

So, when she went to his house one day to see how he was doing, hugging him was the first thing that she did. He was taken aback, but hugged her back anyway. 

He told her that he knew what Malia said to her. That she threatened her. He also told her that Malia was gonna make him chose between Lydia and her. 

Stiles said he’d choose Lydia any day. 

Lydia catches the Stilinski boy’s eye as she gets out of her car, causing a smile to light up on her face. He smiles right back at her, leaning against the brick wall as he waits for her to walk over to him. Her heels clack against the cement sidewalk as she makes her way over to him, smirking at him with her perfect pink lips. 

“Well, how’s my second favorite Stilinski doing this fine morning?” Lydia asks the boy, her hands on her hips as she nearly struts to him. 

He smirks back at her, shoving his hands in his front pockets. “Second favorite? My father has a higher ranking than me now?” Stiles asks, a chuckle falling from his lips. 

“Oh, please. He always had a higher ranking than you.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes, pushing himself off the wall as he walks closer to the strawberry blonde. “Well, I guess I finally see where I stand on your radar, Martin.” 

She chuckles as she rolls her eyes, starting to walk into the school, Stiles following behind her. “I guess you do. And where exactly do I stand on your radar, Mr. Stilinski?” 

Another smirk graces his lips as he leans against the locker next to hers, admiring her pale skin as it glows in the morning light. Does that make him sound creepy?

“I’m afraid to say it, Lyds, but you rank second on my list, too.” 

She looks at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Oh, really? And who would be your number one, Batman?” 

“Princess Leia, of course. You should know this about me by now!” he exclaims just as she shuts her locker door. 

Rolling her eyes, she pats him on the shoulder. “I know. And I’m sorry. Are we gonna go to your locker, now?” 

Chuckling, Stiles throws his arm over her shoulders, smiling as her head barely reaches his shoulders, even when she’s in her heels. Just another one of the things he loves about her. 

But he won’t say that out loud. 

She leans against the locker next to his as he pulls out the books for his next class which, sadly, they don’t have together. Lydia managed to only have to take two classes this semester, seeing as she had almost the amount of credits she needed to graduate last year. But she wanted to experience senior year with all of her friends. 

Lydia sighs as she looks out at the hallway before her, watching as all the students talk and hustle to their first classes. The hustle and bustle of high school has always intrigued the teenager. And she’s not quite sure why. 

“Do you ever think about the fact that we’re seniors already?” she randomly asks the boy next to her, not looking at him as she talks. 

He sends a quick glance her way before shoving his bag into his locker, closing the metal door soon after. “Sometimes. Why do you ask?” Stiles questions as they walk down  
the hallway in the direction of her class, which he always walks her to. 

“It’s just, I feel like it was just yesterday that I met Allison sophomore year. Like I was just with Jackson. We were just starting out in our friendship. Everything was just starting then. And now, now high school’s coming to an end, and it’s felt like hardly any time has gone by,” she explains, looking down at the ground after she mentioned Allison. 

“Well,” he sighs, clutching his books tighter in his hands at the mention of the brunette his best friend was so in love with. “You’re right. Time has flown by fast. It is a little unbelievable that we’re seniors already. But, I kind of can’t wait to get out of here. Start fresh, you know?” 

Lydia scoffs, nodding her head. “Trust me. That’s the only thing I’ve been thinking about all summer,” she mumbles, thinking back to all the college pamphlets she has scattered around her desk back at home. 

“Where are you thinking about going?” Stiles asks as they near her classroom. 

“Well, up until last spring, I was thinking about Stanford. But, with everything that happened last year, I would much rather get out of this God forsaken state. Somewhere on the other side of the country, preferably. What about you, Stilinski?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I have a few colleges in mind, but I really don’t want to leave my dad here by himself, you know? I’m all he has left.” 

She gives him a look as they stop outside of her classroom. “You know, I have a feeling that he and Melissa will be a thing before we graduate. I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Stiles.”

Again, Stiles rolls his eyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever rolled his eyes as much as he does when he’s with her. “Yeah, okay. Keep dreaming, Lyds.” 

“Oh, I will. And one day, it will come true.” 

He chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch, yeah?” 

She nods her head with a smile. “Yeah.” Lydia walks into the classroom, taking a spot in the front row, placing her books on her desk. Stiles smiles at her, sending her a wink before he walks away from the door, toward his own class. 

This day was off to a great start.


	2. 9:52

9:52 a.m.

She was just supposed to be on her way to her second class. 

AP Biology is one of her favorite classes. Her love for science is scary. It’s almost like she’s obsessed with it. But she doesn’t care how crazy she looks when she talks about science. It’s something she loves. Almost more than she loves math. 

But not quite. 

Kira was walking next to her, the Asian girl going on and on about the date that she and Scott had went on the night previous. Lydia was politely listening to the girl ramble on about Scott finally having watched Star Wars, much to Stiles pleasure. The boy had been trying to get the McCall to watch the movie for years. 

And as the Stilinski boy came to mind, a smile appeared on the strawberry blonde’s lips. Kira saw it, a smirk coming to her own lips. She knew that look. 

“So, what special guy are you thinking about in that pretty little head of yours?” Kira asks, stopping in the middle of a sentence just to ask the Martin girl the question. 

Lydia breaks out of her little daze, looking at Kira with furrowed brows. “What are you talking about?” she asks, trying to play dumb. 

Kira scoffs, rolling her eyes at the genius standing next to her. “Please, Lydia. I know that look when I see it. More importantly, I know who you’re thinking about when that look comes around. When are you gonna tell Stiles you’re absolutely in love with him?” 

Rolling her eyes, Lydia looks away from the girl, sighing as she picks at a loose thread on the book cover of her biology text book. “He just got out of a relationship with Malia. Where she cheated on him.” 

“Yeah, just three months ago. Lydia, all of us can tell that he’s ready to move on, except you. What’s holding you back from going after the guy you want?” 

Sighing again, Lydia stops in the hallway, turning to face Kira. “Because what if I’m not what he wants?” 

Kira gives Lydia a look. “Oh, please, Lydia. That boy could not be more in love with you. If he could, I would pay to see it.” 

Lydia rolls her eyes. “You’re delusional.” 

“No, you are if you truly think that Stiles is not head over heels in love with you. You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you. And it’s like a Goddamn tragedy, because you look at him and see the stars, and he looks at you and sees the sun. And you both think the other is just looking at the ground.” 

The two girls are silent for a moment. And it’s just a moment. Just a measly moment in the whole span of time. 

But it takes just a moment for all Hell to break loose. 

/

He was on his way to his next class, walking beside Scott. 

The McCall boy is going on and on about the date he had with Kira the night before, telling his best friend that he finally watched Star Wars. And he can’t help but tune out his best friend, thinking about a certain strawberry blonde just on the other side of the school. 

He gets this stupid smile on his face, a stupid smile the Scott McCall knows too well. He has been looking at it for the past ten years, ever since third grade. 

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Scott asks with a smug smile, stopping in the middle of his sentence to ask the boy the question. 

Stiles breaks out of his stupor, turning to face his best friend. “Lydia? I wasn’t thinking about Lydia. Why would you accuse me of something like that?” he questions quickly, becoming defensive. 

Scott stops in the middle of the hallway, turning to face his best friend as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I didn’t say her name.” 

With a face palm, Stiles leans back to lean against a locker, pulling his hand down his face. “Is it really that obvious?” 

“Stiles, it’s been that obvious since the third freaking grade. Even when you were dating Malia. You were just better at hiding it then.” 

Sighing, Stiles shoves his hands in his front pocket, a nervous habit he’s adapted. “What do I do man?” 

“What do you think? Ask her out, dude!” 

Stiles scoffs, continuing to walk down the hallway toward their next class, Calculus. “Please, Scott. Like she would ever date me. Plus, she’s probably still getting over Aiden’s death.” 

Scott rolls his eyes, quickly catching up with the Stilinski boy. “Stiles, I promise you that Lydia has put Aiden’s death behind her. Yes, she’s still grieving, but she’s ready to date again. I promise you. She told me. 

“And the ‘her not wanting to date you’ crap is complete bullshit,” he finishes. 

Looking over at him, Stiles sends him disbelieving eyes. “Scott, what would a girl like Lydia see in a guy like me? I’m just Stiles Stilinski, the sheriff’s hyperactive spaz of a son.” 

“Oh, my God! You both are so blind! You seriously can’t tell me that you haven’t seen her show the least bit of affection toward you.” 

Stiles shrugs, looking down at the ground. “A few hugs and friendly pecks to the cheek don’t mean anything, Scott. You’re delusional.” 

“No, you are if you don’t realize that Lydia Martin is insanely head over heels for you. You’re in love with her, and she’s in love with you. And it’s like a Goddamn tragedy, because she looks at you and sees the stars, and you look at her and see the sun. And you both think the other’s just looking at the ground.” 

Stiles stares at his best friend wide eyed and jaw dropped in silence for a moment. It’s just a moment. A small moment in the large span of time. 

But it takes just a moment for all Hell to break loose. 

/

A gunshot rings out through the hallways. 

Screams are soon to follow, everyone running and crashing into each other as they try to escape the confines of the school. The place they thought they were safe. 

Another gunshot rings out, followed by three more. By now, Lydia had lost Kira in the running crowd. And she was terrified. How is she supposed to know that the dark haired girl is all right?

Burning pain rips through her lower abdomen as another gunshot rings out through the hallway, sending her to the ground. She crashes to the tiles harshly, hitting her head. The screams and loud footsteps bounce around inside her ears, everything so deafening she wants to scream. 

She’s out of it, but not completely out of it. She’s smart enough to know to play dead. 

It takes minutes for the hallway to clear out, no more footsteps herding around on the tiles. She does hear one set of footsteps as they walk over her, toward the door that leads to the courtyard. Lydia opens her eyes just a sliver, but enough to see the gunman. 

And for a moment, she’s certain she sees Aiden staring right back at her. 

But when she blinks, opening her eyes again, she sees it’s not Aiden, but a boy in her AP Biology class. His name is Marvin. And she remembers him lending her a pencil the day before. 

The very pencil weighing heavily in her pencil case that was somewhere in the hallway. 

She watches as Marvin leaves the hall, walking out into the courtyard, the door clicking shut behind him. Lydia waits for ten minutes before she decides to sit up. 

It’s a struggle, but she manages to get all the way up, looking around at the deserted hall with bags and books and papers scattered all around. 

There are several students lying in the hallway, blood pooling beneath them from gunshot wounds. She crawls to each and every one of them, putting her fingers on their necks, checking for a pulse. 

None of them have one. 

Tears fall from her green eyes as she looks down at the ground after checking the last student, whose name was Bethany. Bethany Miller. 

She was a girl Lydia used to be friends with sophomore year, when she still hung out with all the jocks and their girlfriends. Bethany was one of the girls Lydia could actually tolerate. She was a kind person. 

Was.

Looking around the hall, Lydia wipes her tears from her pale cheeks. She looks down at her abdomen, to see blood staining the white of her white and navy blue striped shirt. From where the bullet is lodged in her skin, she doesn’t think it hit any organs or arteries. 

But she can’t be sure. 

She takes one last look around before she crawls over to her pencil case in search of her phone. A string of curses fall from her lips when she sees that it’s not there. But her library card is. She grabs the piece of plastic, shoving it in her back pocket before she starts to crawl down the hall, headed toward the library that’s just around the corner. 

It takes her about fifteen minutes to get to the double doors of the library. It takes just about five minutes to lift herself up the wall to flash her card in front of the monitor, gaining access into the library. She pushes through the doors, falling to the ground after. The doors close behind her, leaving her alone in the library. 

Lydia crawls over to one of the shelves, hiding behind it in case the shooter comes back. She leans her head back against the shelf, more tears falling down her cheeks as she runs her hand through her messy, curly red hair. 

She was going to die here. 

/

There are people running and screaming. 

He can see from the window that looks across to the other side of the school into another window that people are running around like crazy. Faintly, he can hear gunshots. He can see people falling to the ground. He can see the shooter, holding the gun firmly in his hand. 

His eyes widen as Scott grabs him by his arm, dragging him out of the hallway and out of the school to the front of the school where more people are running and screaming, trying to get to a bus that they’ve already had coming to get students to take them to a safe place. 

Whiskey eyes search for green ones as Scott pulls him around the grass of the front yard of the school toward a bus. Scott nearly shouts in relief as he sees Kira running toward him with tears in her eyes. 

“Scott!” she exclaims, running into his arms. He wraps them tightly around her, pressing kisses to her head repeatedly. 

They embrace for a few more moments before pulling apart. Tears shine in her eyes as she frantically looks around the yard for a certain strawberry blonde. 

“Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here!” Scott exclaims, pulling on her hand and Stiles’. 

“No! We can’t!” Kira exclaims, resisting his pull. 

“Why not? Kira, we have to leave!”

“Kira, where’s Lydia?” Stiles asks her frantically, still looking around the front of the school for his best friend. 

“I’m sorry, Stiles. I, it all happened so fast. One minute we were talking, and the next there was a gunshot, and—“ 

“Where is she, Kira?!” Stiles shouts, his eyes wide and teary. 

“She’s still in the school, Stiles.”


	3. 10:36

10:36 a.m.

It had only been less than an hour. 

All of the blood leaking from her leg has slowed everything down. She can’t tell a second apart from a minute. Or a minute apart from an hour. The only sense of time that she has is the clock hung on the wall across from her. And it reads 10:36 a.m.

Lydia leans her head back against the shelf behind her, doing her best to keep her eyes open. She’s feeling dizzy, tired. But she knows she has to keep her eyes open. 

Her head lulls to the side as her eyes close for the third time in the past five minutes, instantly popping back up as she snaps her eyes open. She holds her hands to her side, pressing down harshly to try and stop the blood. 

It doesn’t really help. 

Tick. Tick. Tick 

/

“What do you mean she’s still in there?” 

Tears are flowing down Kira’s face as she holds tightly onto Scott’s hand. “I don’t know! They just started shooting and I was being pushed down the hallway and out the door. I thought she was right behind me. And when I looked back, I saw her lying on the floor.” Her words are jumbled as she explains the story. 

“Was she shot? Did you see any blood on her? Are there others?” Stiles asks frantically. 

Kira shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I don’t know!” 

Stiles lets out a frustrated sigh as Coach Finstock yells at everyone to get on a bus. He runs his hands through his hair as he looks through the crowd for the thousand time for a five foot three girl with strawberry blonde hair. 

“I have to go find her, Scott,” Stiles says desperately. 

Scott’s eyes widen as he looks at his best friend. “No way, dude. It’s too dangerous!” he exclaims. 

“Look, I don’t care!” Stiles exclaims, running his hand over his face. “Remember what we were talking about before that first gunshot?” Scott nods. “If I don’t go back in there, I’ll never get that chance, okay? I have to go back in there.” 

And before Scott can get another word out, Stiles is running back to the school. 

“Stiles!” 

“Stilinski! Get your ass back here!” Coach yells from behind Scott. Stiles looks back at the two before taking a quick glance at the school. He sends Scott one more look before running through the front doors. 

“McCall, is your friend profoundly stupid or just absolutely insane?” Coach asks Scott as they both look at the closed front doors. 

“Just a little bit of both, Coach,” Scott answers, looking after Stiles. He quickly turns to Kira, taking her hands in his. 

“I have to go in after him,” Scott tells her, looking deep into her big brown eyes that he loves. 

Kira’s eyes widen, immediately shaking her head. “No! You can’t go in there, Scott! You could, you could die!” 

“Look, he’s my best friend, my brother. I can’t let him go in there alone. I love you, okay? I love you, but you need to get on that bus.” 

“No! I’m not gonna leave you, Scott!” 

He sighs, leaning down to press a hard kiss to her lips as he cups her cheeks. His heart breaks when he pulls away to find more tears falling out of her eyes. He looks over   
her shoulder at Coach, nodding his head toward the small girl. 

Scott pulls away from her, walking backwards as he watches her try to hold onto him. Coach grabs the small girl around the waist, pushing her in the direction of the bus behind them. He blows her one more kiss before he turns around, running back into the school after his best friend. 

And Kira watches as those blue double doors close behind him from the bus window, just as she drives away. 

/

Everything’s too quiet. 

It’s so quiet, that the only things Lydia can hear are her short, shallow breaths, the ticking of the clock, and the ever slowing sound of her heart beat. 

Now it’s 10:53 a.m. She hasn’t heard anything from out in the hall, but she doesn’t know if she can crawl her way out of the school without collapsing. 

A sigh falls from her lips as her head lulls to the side again. She forces it back up, her hooded eyes becoming heavier with every second. She knows she doesn’t have long. 

And that terrifies her. 

/

Stiles curses under his breath as he trips over another backpack. 

He clutches the baseball bat tighter in his hands, carefully walking down the hallway he was in earlier when the first gunshot went off. He needs to find a safe way to get to   
the other side of the school. The side where Lydia was when the shots went off. 

His head snaps around when he hears footsteps echoing through the halls. Quickly, he pushes himself up against a row of lockers, going as far into the wall as he can. He waits a few minutes after he hears a door open and close before continuing on his way toward the other hall. And when he gets there, he really wish he didn’t. 

There are seven students on the ground, pools of blood beneath their motionless bodies. And his heart brakes when he sees a certain one. 

But he’s also glad she doesn’t have strawberry blonde hair. 

A girl with light blonde hair stained with crimson blood as she lies on her back. There’s a hole in the side of her head, blood still leaking from the round circle. The smell of her blood and the other’s fills the hallway. 

Tears line his waterline as he looks at the girl’s motionless body. Her name was Heather. A girl he used to go to nursery school with. Their mothers were best friends before his died. They used to take bubble baths together. And now she’s gone. 

He didn’t even get to say goodbye. 

A single tear falls from his right eye and down his cheek. Quickly, he wipes it away. He looks around the hall for any sign of Lydia. He’s both relieved and worried when he   
doesn’t see her. 

His eyes spot her turquoise pencil case carelessly thrown to the side of the hall, its contents spilling out. Stiles rushes over to it, sifting through its insides as he tries to find a clue to where she is. 

Stiles notices that her phone isn’t there. He vaguely remembers her leaving it in her locker this morning. As he looks closer through it, he realizes there’s one thing missing. 

Her library card. 

His eyes turn to the hallway that leads to the library from here. And they widen when he sees a trail leading exactly that way. 

A trail of blood. 

/

She doesn’t know how much longer she can last. 

By now, she’s no longer leaning up against the shelf. She’s fallen to her side, lying there on the ground like a rag doll. And she doesn’t have the energy to get back up. 

Her green eyes watch the clock. 11:14 a.m. The red hand ticks with every second, and she hears the sound ringing in her ears like a freaking bullhorn. 

It’s been just over an hour and a half. Sweat clings to her paler than usual skin. Her slow heart beat thumps her whole body, ringing in her ears along with the ticking. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. 

She thinks back to this morning. How she woke up to an empty house. It’s not unusual. Every morning she’s by herself unless she spent the night at Kira’s or Stiles’. 

Her mother is always at another convention. Or at work. Or away with her friends for the weekend, leaving her daughter alone. 

It wasn’t always like this, though. When her parents divorced her freshman year, her mother wouldn’t leave her alone. They would have movie nights and get away weekends. There would always be a good morning text or a post-it on her bathroom mirror. It was nice. 

But then these things started fading away. More business trips. More weekends with her friends. By the end of sophomore year, it had been six weeks since her mother had left a post-it on her mirror. And by the start of junior year, movie nights and get away weekends ceased to exist. 

It saddens her how her relationship with her mother went to die in a hole. Especially now, because she’ll never have the chance to rebuild it. 

She thinks about her father, who never really cared to be in her life after the divorce. The man who only used her as a ploy to help his reputation. Who wouldn’t want a genius daughter? 

She thinks about Malia. The first girl who dated the love her life. The girl he gave himself away to. The girl who hated her from the start. The girl Lydia wasn’t too fond of, either. 

The girl she’ll never be able to build a relationship with. 

She thinks about Kira. The Asian girl who was there for her after Allison died. The girl she can go shopping with and talk about boys with. 

The girl she’ll never get to make sure lived through today. 

She thinks about Scott. The boy that dated her best friend. Her best friend’s first love. The boy that she knows would do anything for her. Her brother. 

The boy she’ll never get to see again. 

She thinks about Allison. Her best friend. Her sister. She knew Allison would protect her with her life. And she would do the same. That’s what sisters do. 

The girl that she’ll be seeing soon. 

Finally, she thinks about Stiles. The hyperactive spaz from sophomore year with the gigantic crush on her. The more calm and collected Stiles that she got to know junior year. The senior Stiles, a sarcastic, mashup of the two. 

The boy that she fell in love with. And she’ll never be able to tell him. 

Lydia opens her eyes that she hadn’t even realized closed. She’s expecting the same, boring scene she’s been looking at for the past few hours, but her heart starts beating faster when her green eyes are met with a pair of skinny legs clad in black tights. The black combat boots that the person is wearing are to die for, if she wore something other than heels, and Lydia can’t help but think she’s seen them somewhere before. 

With little effort, the Martin girl looks up the body of the person, commenting in her head about how powerful the girl looks in her dark blue dress and black jacket, before she’s met with the brown eyes of someone she thought she would never see again. 

”Allison?” the girl breathes, staring in disbelief at the figure before her. “How are you here? You’re dead.” 

The late huntress smiles down at her dying best friend, a sad flicker in her eyes. “I’m not really here, Lydia. You’re dying, Lydia. You’re in Bardo,” Allison tells her, making Lydia’s perfect eyebrows crease. 

“I’m, I’m what?” 

“You remember our talk about Bardo before, right? With Kira at the lunch table outside after all the surrogate sacrifices? That’s where you are, Lydia. Except, this time, without the demented demons. Instead, you get me.” 

“Are you stuck here?” Lydia asks, fearing that her best friend is stuck between the life and death state with a bunch of demons. 

Allison shakes her head, her short, brown hair curled at the ends bobbing up and down. “No. I was just allowed to come here because someone I love needs my help. You, Lydia.” 

“I’m really dying?” 

Sadly, Allison nods. “You are, Lydia. But I can’t let that happen, okay? You have too many people on this Earth who care about you greatly. They can’t afford to lose you. So, that’s why I’m here.” 

“And how are you supposed to keep me alive, exactly?” 

“Simply by telling you, you need to fight. Fight this bullet, okay? You can’t let a measly bullet stop you from living out the rest of your life with your friends. You need to fight, for Kira, Scott, your mother, Stiles.

“I recall hearing something about how he would go out of his ‘freaking mind’ if you ever died. He’s lost too many people, Lydia. You need to stay alive for him, okay?” 

“But, what about you, Allison? I can finally see you again. Why can’t I stay?” the strawberry blonde whines, wanting to stay with her best friend. Her sister. 

Allison smiles sadly at the girl, kneeling next to her and taking her bloodied hand. “I’ll always be with you, Lydia. Besides, I’m only one person. There’s a lot more people here that need you than I do.” 

With more tears falling down her face, Lydia nods, gripping Allison’s hand with as much strength as she can muster. “Okay, Allison.” 

“Good.” 

“Alli, I love you, you know that right? I could never forget you.” 

“I know, Lydia. I love you, too. I know.” 

Lydia is pulled back to reality when she hears the library doors creak open. She glances back quickly before looking back in front of her, her eyebrows creasing once again when she sees that Allison is no longer there. 

With a now racing heartbeat, she closes her eyes, trying to slow her breathing to appear dead. Her eyes can see through the small space between her eyelids, barely letting anything in. 

Footsteps get closer to where she is. She breathes through her nose, trying to calm the oncoming panic attack. 

He’s back. 

And when the stranger reveals themselves, she almost screams. In relief.

The end of a bat stares back at her, making a weak scoff fall from her lips. “Really? Stiles, how many times have I told you, you need to get something better than a baseball bat?”


	4. 11:59

11:59 a.m.

It’s 11:59 when he walks through the library doors. 

The blood trail doesn’t stop at the doors. It continues through the library, leading to some shelves in the corner. 

It’s so silent, you could hear a pin drop. His heartbeat drums in his ears, almost giving him a headache. 

He has a tight grip on his bat, holding it behind his head ready to swing at the first threat. Stiles takes slow steps along the blood trail, following it to the back of the library. As he gets closer, he can hear small, shallow breaths no matter how hard the person tries to hide it. 

The floorboards creak underneath his weight, causing him to wince. He continues along his way, none the less, the floorboards only creaking every three steps. 

As the blood trail continues, Stiles notices how it disappears around the corner of one of the bookshelves. A sigh falls from his lips as his grip tightens before he continues forward, slowly turning the corner. 

He sees the feet before anything else, making him turn around the corner quickly, pointing his bat at the predator on the ground. Before he realizes that he’s not looking at a predator. But it’s pretty much the same thing. 

It’s Lydia. 

Stiles watches as she opens her eyes, soon rolling them as she lets out a weak scoff. “Really? Stiles, how many times do I have to tell you, you need to get something better than a baseball bat?” 

A sigh of instant relief leaves his lips, but is cut off when he notices all the crimson liquid surrounding her, staining her already strawberry blonde hair and clothes. 

He instantly falls to his knees beside the girl, not even caring that his jeans are being soaked in her blood. Stiles realizes that the source of the blood is coming from her abdomen, instantly putting pressure on the spot. 

Lydia groans at the pressure, causing Stiles to apologize. “I’m sorry, Lydia. I just have to—“

“I know, I know, Stiles. It’s okay,” she cuts him off, her voice quiet and weak. 

“What happened, Lydia?” 

She shakes her head, not knowing how to answer. “I don’t know, Stiles. One minute, one minute I was just walking to AP Biology. And the next, gunshots were ringing out through the hallway. Several went off, went off before I got hit. I looked around, but I couldn’t find Kira—“ she cuts herself off as her eyes widening, reaching up to grab Stiles’   
shoulders. 

“Where is she? Is she okay? Did she get hurt? Is Scott okay? Where are they? Did they get—“ 

“Sh, sh, sh,” Stiles says, taking one of his bloodied hands away from her side, pushing some of her hair out of her face. His fingers leave a blood trail along her paler than usual skin before he returns his hand to her side. “They’re fine. Scott and Kira are fine. They got on a bus. They’ll be fine.” 

She sighs in relief, letting her head fall back down on the ground. Lydia puts her hands over Stiles, aiding him in adding the pressure. 

“They’re all gonna come, now,” Lydia whispers, blankly looking up at the ceiling. 

Stiles is freaked out. He’s never seen her like this. Her green eyes are usually so full of life. It’s scary to see them this dull. “Who, Lydia? Who’s gonna come? Are there more shooters?” 

Lydia turns her gaze to him, shaking her head softly. “No.” 

“Then who, Lydia?” 

“The reporters, the shrinks, the professionals. They’re gonna, they’re gonna come in here and try to help us get through this. Try to help us make sense of this. But they’re not gonna be able to. Because no one knows what’s going through Marvin’s, through Marvin’s mind right now.” 

His eyes widen at the sound of that name. “Marvin? You mean Marvin Bailey?” 

She nods her head. “Yeah, he was, he was one of your friends, right?” 

Silently, Stiles nods his head, a few tears stinging the back of his eyes. But he holds them back. He needs to be strong for her. 

“Yeah. He was.” 

Was. 

“He, he’s the one who pulled out the gun. He’s the one, the one that shot me, Stiles.” 

Another groan leaves her lips at the pain in her side, making Stiles look down at his hands. The pressure’s not working. Blood keeps leaking through his fingers, not having let up once since he got here. 

“Lydia, we’re gonna have to do something else,” he tells her, his voice unsteady as he looks down at his hands. 

“Take off your belt,” she says without hesitance, looking straight at him. 

He raises an eyebrow at her. “At least take me to dinner first.” 

Even when she’s lost a good amount of blood, she still sends him her infamous death glare. 

“Just take off your damn belt, Stiles.” 

/

“I’m tired, Stiles.” 

He looks down at her where her head lies on his lap. His belt is buckled around her abdomen, trying to stop the blood coming out of the bullet hole in her stomach. One of   
his hands holds hers, the other stroking her hair back from her sweaty face. 

Even when she’s bleeding out on the floor, she still manages to look beautiful. 

“I know you are, Lydia. I am, too. But you’ve got to keep your eyes open,” he whispers to her, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. 

“I don’t know if I can,” she whispers back, that being the only volume level she can reach. A tear falls from her eye as she looks up at the pale boy’s face. 

“I know it’s gonna be hard. But you’ve gotta do it. Tell me something. Tell me about something that makes you happy. Tell me about a good day that you remember.”

A small smile forms on the girl’s lips as a certain day comes to mind. “There was one day last winter,” she starts, thinking back. “It was that day school was cancelled because of all the ice, remember?” Stiles nods his head, smiling at the fragile girl. “Allison, Alison had spent the night at my house. We were up so late studying, and the ice storm was   
already going on. So, she just, just stayed over.

“We had a gigantic One Tree Hill marathon. We managed to watch almost all of season one before the power cut off. 

“It started to get cold really fast. Kind of like now. So Allison and I got a bunch of blankets and pillows and just cuddled up together and talked. We talked about everything. Our parents. Jackson. Scott. Isaac. You. It was one of the last real conversations I had with her before, before she died. And now, now I’m going to see her again. Should I be excited or, or scared?” 

Stiles stares down at her with hard eyes. “Neither, because you’re not gonna die, Lyds,” he tells her, squeezing her hand tighter in his. 

She stares up at him through her eyelashes with eyes filled with sorrow. “Stiles, I was dead when that bullet shot through my skin.” 

“Lydia,” he says harshly, “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. Not again.” 

Her heart melts, and she figures it’s now or never.

“If, if I tell you I’m in love with you, will you hold it against me? Because I’ve lost a lot of blood. And I’m not sure how this next hour’s gonna go.” 

Stiles looks down at her with wide eyes. “Are you serious?” 

A small smile falls upon her lips as she nods her head. “Yes, Stiles. I’m in love with you. And Goddammit, if you don’t tell me you’re in love with me, too, neither of us are making it out of this library alive.” 

He smiles down at her, pushing more hair away from her face. “I love you, took Lyds. I’m in love with you, too.” 

She sighs in relief, giving him a wide smile. “Come here.” 

So the boy leans down, thinking she’s going to whisper something to him. He’s pleasantly surprised when her pink, plump lips capture his in a kiss.

It’s a simple, quick kiss. Over almost as fast as it started. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t take his breath away. Or hers. 

It was perfect. 

She smiles sadly at him as she pulls back, resting her head against his denim clad legs again. 

“Just in case you can’t keep your promise.”


	5. 12:21

12:21 p.m.

Her eyes fall shut, and they don’t open again. 

Stiles swears his heart literally stops when she doesn’t answer after the first three times he calls her name. He’s only assured when he sees the slow rise and fall of her chest, letting him know she’s still breathing. 

She’s still alive. 

Quickly, he lifts her head carefully from his lap before setting it on the ground, rushing to the doors of the library. He pushes the bookshelves that he had moved in front of them before away, giving him access to the doors. 

He’s getting her out of here. He’s keeping his promise. 

Stiles runs back to her, carefully picking her up in bridal style. Once she’s securely in his arms, he walks out of the library, wincing when the library door slams shut behind him. 

The sound echoes through the halls in the most deafening way. He’s almost certain there’s no way the shooter didn’t hear it. He moves faster to find an exit. 

It takes him several minutes to get back to the hallway he came in from, but when he sees the light coming from the exit door, he nearly sighs in relief. His shoes squeak against the tiles as he tries to get to the door as fast as he can. He’s almost there, but a clicking sound behind him stops him in a track, along with a very familiar voice. 

A clicking sound. Like a gun getting ready to fire. 

“Take one more step, and this bullet goes in her head,” Marvin says as Stiles turns around, facing the boy that he used to call one of his best friends. 

“What are you doing? The school’s on lockdown1” Marvin exclaims, his loud voice making Stiles wince as its echo bounces off the walls into his ears. 

He used to be good friends with Marvin. Back in elementary and into middle school, they did all of their activities together. AV club, yearbook, drama. They even tried out football once, but that didn’t go too well.

Occasionally, Scott would hang out with them. Scott was just into different things. He didn’t like battling mythical creatures online or watching ever Star Wars movie in a weekend. That was a Stiles and Marvin thing. 

But then sophomore year came. Scott had been practicing lacrosse all year to get on first line. And he was good. Really good. So, he and Stiles started hanging out around the popular kids. Especially when Scott started dating Allison. 

Neither boy realized they’d been drifting away from Marvin. Even still, Marvin never reached out to them. Stiles and Marvin still played online together sometimes, but it just wasn’t the same. 

“I know, Marvin,” Stiles replies, standing as still as he can while Lydia lays limp in his arms. 

“Then what are you doing?” 

The calmness of his voice sends a chill down Stiles’ spine. 

“I’m getting her out of here.” 

Marvin shakes his head, holding the gun still at Stiles. “I don’t think so, Stiles.” 

“Marvin, she’s going to die if I don’t get her out of here. I can’t let that happen.” 

“But that’s the point of all of this, isn’t it? For people to die? That’s why I have this gun, right?” 

His sentences come out like questions. Like he doesn’t know why he’s actually holding a gun in his hand. 

“Marvin, you don’t want to do this. I know you didn’t want to hurt her. I know you didn’t want to hurt anyone.” 

“But what if I did Stiles? What if I told you that every person I shot has done something to me in the past? Something that made me resent them. 

“What, Marvin? What did they do?” 

Marvin lets out a scoff, tears rolling down his cheeks. “They’ve all done something to me. Made me feel lesser than them. Made fun of me. Made me feel like I’m not important. But her,” he says, pointing to Lydia, “Out of all the people I shot today, she’s the one I wanted dead the most.” 

“Why?” Stiles asks, just above a whisper. 

“It was freshmen year. The Homecoming dance was coming up. Our first Homecoming dance. I knew you liked her, Stiles. But I liked her, too. So, I asked her to go with me. And you know what she said? She laughed in my face and said that she’d drop dead before she went on a date with me. 

“Think she’ll go with me, now?” 

A tear falls down Stiles’ cheek as he looks at the teenage boy before him, a boy that he used to know so well. Now, he doesn’t even know the boy standing in front of him. 

“What happened to you, Marvin?” Stiles asks, the tear rolling down his cheek falling off his chin onto Lydia’s shirt, creating a wet spot. 

“You left me, Stiles!” he exclaims suddenly, causing Stiles to jump. “You and Scott left me alone. I had no one. And everyone else realized that. I became a target. And now, so have they.” 

“Marvin, this isn’t the way to get your revenge. Killing people is not the way to get revenge. It’s just high school. We’re seniors. We’ll be out of here in a few months. Why did this have to happen now? We were so close, Marvin.” 

“That’s exactly why. They were so close to getting out of this hellhole. The place I will always be stuck because of the things they said to me. And now, so will them. They will be stuck here for the rest of eternity.” 

Stiles shakes his head, backing up a little more toward the door. Marvin tightens his grip on the black gun, putting his finger over the trigger. 

“Take one more step and she’s deader than she already is!” Marvin shouts, walking closer to the pair, his gun aimed at Lydia’s head. 

“Please, Marvin. I’ve told you this before. And I meant it. If she dies, I will go out of my freaking mind. And I don’t want to end up like my mother did.” 

Footsteps are heard from the hallway to Stiles’ right. He looks to the side, his eyes widening in concern. 

“Oh, what the hell are you doing here?” 

Scott reveals himself to Marvin, standing less than five feet away from Stiles, his hands in the air. He looks at Marvin. “Marvin, put the gun down,” Scott says simply. 

“How did you get in here? The school’s on lockdown!” Marvin exclaims, the gun shaking in his hand from fury. 

“I know. But I had to come back and save my best friends. All of them.” He looks directly at Marvin as he says this, causing Marvin to roll his eyes. 

“Oh, please, Scott. We were never best friends. You barely even hung out with Stiles and me. Don’t kid yourself.” 

A sigh falls out of Scott’s lips as he looks at Stiles over his shoulder. “Take her. Get out her out of here,” he tells him, causing Stiles to immediately shake his head. 

“No, I’m not going anywhere without you, Scott. Not again,” Stiles says, standing firmly in his spot. 

Scott turns back to Marvin, his hands still in the air. “Marvin, please let them go. She’s going to die, okay? Do you really want an eighth death on your hands today? She has so much going for her, just like all those other kids you shot. Don’t you think at least one of them should get to live?” 

Marvin lets out a sigh, seeming to be struggling with something in his mind. He looks back at Scott, not saying a word. 

Scott takes that as a yes. 

“Stiles, go. I’ll cover you,” Scott says, moving to stand in front of the pair. 

“I’m not leaving you, Scott! Look what happened the last time I did! You ran in here on a suicide mission. I can’t lose my best friend,” Stiles says, another tear falling down his cheek. 

“Stiles,” Scott snaps, still looking at him over his shoulder, “I know you don’t want to leave me. But you have to. You have to save her, okay? You’re my best friend, and I love you. Now go.” 

Stiles looks at Scott with a heartbroken expression, before nodding his head. “Okay. I love you, too, bro.” He looks over Scott’s shoulder at Marvin, another tear falling. “I really wish it hadn’t come to this, Marvin. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

And then he turns around and walks out the front doors. 

/

There are a lot of SWAT officers. 

Stiles slowly walks out of the school, tightening his grip on Lydia when he sees all of the police officers and ambulances and guns. His father is at the front of it all, a look of relief washing over his face as he sees his sun exit the building. 

Two paramedics rush toward him, taking the bleeding girl out of his arms. He tries to go after her, but two SWAT officers hold him back, ordering him to put his hands out so they can check him for any weapons. He doesn’t want to. All he wants to do is hop into that ambulance with Lydia and rush her to the hospital. 

But he does as he’s told. 

When it’s clear that he doesn’t have any weapons on him and the blood soaking his hands and shirt isn’t his, the officers let him continue on his way. He’s angry when he sees that Lydia’s ambulance is already gone, but a sigh falls from his lips as he sees his father rushing toward him. 

There’s nothing in the world that he likes more than his father’s hugs. They’re always so warm and comforting. He knows that as long as his dad is with him, he’ll always be alright. 

“I was going out of my mind worrying about you in that school, son,” his father mutters into his shoulder. When they pull back, the Sheriff smacks his son upside the head. 

Stiles lets out a painful squeal, holding the back of his head as he looks to his father with wide eyes. “What the hell was that for?!” he exclaims. 

“Never, ever, do that again, do you hear me?! Do you know how suicidal that was? That was insane!” 

Stiles’ eyes widen when he realizes something. “Dad, Scott’s still in there,” he says, gripping his father’s shoulders. 

“What?” the Sheriff asks, eyes wide. 

“Scott, he’s still in there. He told me to leave so I could get Lydia in an ambulance. He’s still in there.” 

The Sheriff nods, turning away from his son as he speaks into his radio. The man grabs his gun, walking up the steps to the front doors Stiles came out of. Stiles’ eyes widen and his heart beats faster when he realizes what his father’s going to do. 

“Dad! No! You can’t go in there!” Stiles yells, rushing back up the steps to hang on to his father’s jacket. 

His father turns to face him, eyes hard. “This is my job, Stiles. Now, let go of my jacket,” he says coldly. 

“No,” Stiles snaps, causing the Sheriff’s eyebrows to rise in surprise. “If you’re going in there, I’m going in with you.” 

“Stiles—“ 

“He’s my best friend. He saved me, so I’m gonna save him.” 

Knowing that he can’t change his son’s mind, he nods, standing in front of him. “Fine, but stay behind me, understand?” 

Stiles nods, but knows that if Scott’s in any real danger, that he would abandon his father’s wishes to protect his best friend. His brother. 

They walk into the school, seeing Scott and Marvin in the same positions as before. Marvin still has the gun pointed at Scott’s chest, Scott’s hands still raised in the air as to   
signal he comes in peace. 

“Scott, come on, we’re getting out of here,” the Sheriff says, holding his gun in front of him.

Scott turns around to face the Stilinski men, his eyes filling with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he mutters, taking a step toward them. 

Neither of the other males see it, but Stiles does. He sees Marvin moving his hand toward the trigger. He sees the look in his eyes, even from this far away. He knows what he’s going to do. 

He’s going to shoot his best friend. 

As quickly as he can, Stiles moves his father’s arm out of his way, pushing toward Scott. The Sheriff tries to get a grip on his son’s arm, but it’s proven useless as Stiles easily shakes him off, continuing running to his best friend. He jumps in front of Scott just in time. 

Just in time for a shot to go off.


	6. Six Months

6 Months 

It’s been six months. 

Six months since that fateful day. Six months since they lost eight lives. Six months since ten bullets went off in that school. Six months since they’d stepped foot in that dreadful school. None of them wanted to go back. It just brought up too many bad memories. 

Scott’s not really sure what to think. He was so shocked it happened in the first place. Even now, after having gone to eight funerals in one week, it’s hard to believe that it was all real. That Lydia got shot. That eight of his classmates died. That his best friend came back to save him. It still feels like a nightmare that happened to be true. 

Lydia’s memories of the day are still hazy. She remembers walking down the hall with Kira. She remembers the intense pain she felt when she was shot in that hallway. She remembers dragging herself to the library. She remembers Allison. And she remembers Stiles showing up. But everything’s pretty hazy after that. If it’s not her mind playing tricks on her, then she remembers a short lip lock between her and the Stilinski boy. But that is usually just in dreams, anyway. 

The Sheriff was shocked out of everyone. This kid, this gunman, he used to have over at his house. He and Stiles were the best of friends. He doesn’t know how he could’ve turned out the way he did. He just hopes to God that he didn’t have anything to do with it. 

And Stiles. Stiles doesn’t know how he could feel worse about it. But every day more guilt creeps into his system, eating him alive from the inside out. Marvin was his friend. One of his best friends. And he pushed him away. He allowed him to get like this. Or, like that. 

When Stiles jumped in front of Scott that day, he took a bullet to the right shoulder. He jumped just in time. For had he been any later, that bullet would’ve gone straight through his heart. It took several months of physical therapy, but he regained strength and movement in his arm, praising the great Lord up above. 

But that day in the hallway, another life was taken. Marvin’s. He took his own life after he shot Stiles. Stiles will never forget lying on the floor while he watched one of his good friends turn the gun to his head, squeezing the trigger. That gunshot still echoes around the walls of his head, making him temporarily deaf. 

He doesn’t want to feel guilty. But he is. Every ounce of this is his fault. If he had just stuck by Marvin, none of this would’ve happened. Lydia wouldn’t have almost died. He wouldn’t have gotten shot. And those eight teenagers in that school would still be here today. 

It’s been a while since Stiles has talked to anyone. Now a days, he mostly keeps to himself. It was worse right after the shooting. He locked himself in his room after he got home from the hospital, refusing to speak to anyone. Scott tried to get in through his window, but he locked that, too. 

The only person that could really get to him was Lydia. She didn’t get out of the hospital until three weeks after the shooting. She had lost forty percent of her blood. She was lucky enough that they were able to patch her up on the inside. She was lucky that Stiles tied that belt around her abdomen. She would’ve been dead otherwise. 

She had stopped to see him the day she got out of the hospital. Her mother was against it, but she didn’t care. Lydia had heard from Scott that Stiles wasn’t talking to anyone and he barely ate anything. He told her that he needed her. She doubted that, but she decided to give it a try. 

Lydia remembers knocking on his door. She remembers not hearing anything from the other side. She knocked and knocked and knocked, even telling him it was her. But he didn’t answer. It was probably fifteen minutes later when the Sheriff came by, reaching on the ledge of the door to get the spare key to his bedroom. She smiled at the man before   
unlocking his door, walking into his room. 

It was a rare sight to see Lydia Martin in anything other than heels. But there she was in front of him, wearing a pair of white Converse, leggings, and an oversized sweatshirt with her strawberry blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun. 

“What are you doing here?” he had asked, sitting up in his bed while groaning from putting weight on his injured arm. 

She shrugged her shoulders, slowly walking over to take a seat on his desk. “Well, a little birdy told me that you locked yourself up in your room and wouldn’t come out. Decided I would come and break you free,” Lydia responded, a small smile on her lips as she looked at the brown haired boy. 

He sighed, looking away from her. “I can’t stop thinking about that day, Lydia.” 

“And you think the rest of us can? Stiles, I almost died that day, okay? There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about us in that library, just waiting for a sign that it was safe for us to come out. Never in my life would I think that my high school wasn’t safe enough that I couldn’t walk the halls as I please. Not until I was shot in the side and bleeding out on the floor. 

“Look, Stiles, I know that Marvin was your friend. And I know that you feel responsible for everything that’s happened.” 

He looked at her with questioning eyes. “How did you know that? I haven’t told anyone that.” 

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I know you better than you think I do, Stiles. I mean, I have been your best friend for the better part of two years.” 

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he looked down at the ground, away from her sparkling green eyes that have a tinge of life back in them. 

She sighed herself, standing from the desk before she walked over to him, kneeling in front of him. She tried to get a glimpse at his whiskey eyes, but he wasn’t having it. With a sigh, she lifted up his head with her hands cupping his cheeks. 

Lydia almost gasped at how lifeless his eyes looked. There were dark bags under his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Which he probably hadn’t. 

“Stiles, you need to stop beating yourself up about this. Okay, Marvin wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault. You need to believe that. How can I get you to believe that?” she asked desperately, rubbing her thumbs under his eyes. 

He looked into her eyes, searching for something. Then, he didn’t know exactly what, but now, he does. He knows what he was searching for that day. 

Disgust. Fear. Resentment. And he didn’t find it. 

“I want you to forgive me.” 

She knew there was nothing that she needed to forgive him for. But he felt like he needed it. And if he needed it, she was willing to give it to him. 

So, Lydia forgave him for something he didn’t even do. And after that, he seemed to get better. He started coming out of his room and conversing with his father. He started eating again. It took a while, but he saw Scott again. He got his acceptance letter from Stanford, the same school that Lydia was going to. 

And through the whole process, Lydia never left his side. 

It’s still hard to get him to open up. He’s quiet most days. But there are days where she sees the old Stiles. The Stiles she loved before the shooting. The Stiles she still loves, flaws and all. 

They decided to move in together when he started college. He couldn’t sleep most nights. And it was even worse when he was alone. And she knew that. 

She knew all about his nightmares. About how he had to scream himself awake most nights when the Sheriff wasn’t home. It was about three months after the shooting when she started staying the night at his house to calm his nerves. 

The first time was just on accident. She was already helping him pack for college. They had taken a break, watching Star Wars on his laptop, because she was the only one who would watch it with him. She had fallen asleep first, and when he saw that her eyes were closed and her breathing was steady, he shut off his laptop, setting it on his night stand before he shut the light off, pulling a blanket over the two. 

They had slept in the same bed before. Mostly after Allison died. He was there for her when she needed it, so he figured she could be here for him when he needed it. 

It was the best night of sleep he’d gotten in months. Even before the shooting. 

He still has nightmares from the shooting. She still has nightmares from the shooting and Allison. Sometimes, they wake up screaming at the same time. Or sometimes one wakes up screaming, realizing the other is, too. But more often than not, one of them is waking up to the other screaming, shaking them awake before they hold each other the rest of the night, not daring to go back to sleep. 

“Stiles,” she asks one day in their first year of college, sitting at the kitchen table in their apartment with a cup of steaming tea in front of her. 

Stiles sits on the other side of the table, looking down at his Advanced Chemistry homework before he looks up to her, pencil dangling in his hand. “Yes?” he asks, looking back down at his homework as Lydia looks at her tea with conflicted eyes. 

“Do you remember what happened that day in the library?” she questions, her voice a little unsteady as she picks at the chipped glass of her tea cup. 

For months she’s wanted to know if he remembered what happened between them in that library the day of the shooting. Because she sure as hell did, and she thinks about it every day. But she’s never wanted to bring it up, because she knows that it’s still a touchy subject for him. 

She doesn’t know why she thought it would be a good idea to ask him now, but the question just came to mind. And she needs to know. 

He looks up from his homework again, dropping his pencil into his book as he looks at her with a blank stare. 

She immediately starts apologizing. “I’m sorry, Stiles. That was insensitive. I know that it hasn’t been that long since it happened. I just, I’m really sorry. You don’t have to—“ 

“Yes. I do,” he says simply, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. 

Lydia looks up from her tea with wide eyes into his whiskey ones. They stare back at her, but this time, they’re not blank. They’re full of emotion. She’s just not sure what. 

“I remember everything that happened that day, Lydia. I remember Kira running out to Scott and me in the courtyard, tears streaming down her face as she told us someone was in the school shooting and that you were still in there. I remember not caring about anything else in that moment but going back in to find you. I remember finding you in the library and being terrified that you wouldn’t make it because you had already lost so much blood. 

“And I remember just sitting there on the ground with your head in my lap as we talked. I remember my heart nearly beating out of my chest when you told me you loved me.” He gets up from his seat, walking around the table to kneel in front of the strawberry blonde looking at him with teary eyes. 

“Don’t think for a second that I forgot about anything that happened in that library. Because I remember all of it. But, you told me not to hold it against you because you’d lost a lot of blood. So, I didn’t.” 

A small chuckle leaves her lips as a tear falls down her cheek. She cups his cheeks in her hands, softly rubbing the skin under his eyes with her thumbs. “You can totally hold it against me, Stiles Stilinski.” 

He smiles at her, reaching up to wipe the stray tears from her face. “You know, that is probably the best thing you could’ve said. And I’ll make sure I do. For the rest of my life.” 

She giggles, a pink tint taking over her cheeks as she leans forward, pressing her lips to his. It’s hard to maintain their second kiss when they’re both smiling like idiots. 

But she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The kiss slowly turns into a slow, passionate one, one they both take time to cherish and put everything they have into it. And when they pull away and look into each other’s eyes, they know that this, this is exactly where they’re supposed to be.


End file.
